


Someone to write your breakup songs

by BubblySage



Category: Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Band, Drummer!Bokuto, Eijun and Daichi are cousins, Fluff and Angst, M/M, alternative universe, band au, musician au, reporter!Eijun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblySage/pseuds/BubblySage
Summary: Miyuki and his bandmates are an upcoming hot act and in order to help their career, Sawamura Daichi asks his cousin, Sawamura Eijun, to do write-ups/articles for the band. Despite Eijun’s not-so-good past with musicians, he agrees; he can't say no to his cousin who never asked him for help before. It's simple: Eijun just needs to know the band a little, write some articles, and then Eijun can be on his way, right?Akaashi Keiji, successful classical pianist, is trying to escape his family's control by running away. When his escape plan doesn't work, he propositions one of his fans, a drummer named Bokuto Koutarou. It's nothing personal; his fan gets to date him, while he gets to avoid his family. Harmless, right?Sawamura Daichi has nursed feelings for his long-time childhood friend Sugawara Koushi. But how to tell him; what if he ruins their friendship?





	1. Whatever you've been dreaming about

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sukotchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sukotchi/gifts).



> To Roo... OTL ... the truth is I've written three chapters of this already before other things happened (aka other drops et al, lol) and I was forced to put it aside to write those first. I'm very, very, sorry this is so late = I seem to be saying this a lot lately. Anyway, I hope you like this!
> 
> Title came from One Direction's Perfect... which is the inspiration for this fic <3

 

 

_TSSSSS!!!!_

Bokuto lets the hiss of the cymbals gradually fade before he switches the audio controls. “Alright! I hope you enjoyed that. Thank you for watching! As usual, click on the link here, here, and here to subscribe to my channel! Tune in next time, I’ll do a cover of Lukas Graham’s Love Someone!”

After a few seconds, Bokuto switches off the camera and the microphone. Making sure the recordings have stopped, Bokuto then exhales. Keeping his vlog updated is exhausting, and since they released an album, he can only update his channel once a week. In his heyday, he used to update at least thrice a week.

He looks at the time on his computer—it was nearly ten in the evening. Bokuto opens an app on the screen and looks over his schedule for the next day, noting that his earliest appointment won’t be until eleven. Smiling to himself and happy that he has time to edit the video and post it, Bokuto gets to work. He makes a few more clicks to bring up the video editing app and begins to interlace the video and audio. While he doesn’t need to edit the video much, it’s the audio track that he’s quite particular with. Sometimes, he records the entire thing over again if he even finds a wrong chord or a missed beat somewhere.

He is halfway through the list of songs he has recorded that evening when he feels his eyelids droop from exhaustion. He looks at the time and nearly yelps at seeing it’s a little over midnight. He’s been so absorbed in editing that he lost track of time. He pushes his chair back and stands to stretch, feeling his neck muscles creak in protest. He decides to grab a quick nap and continue editing after. He locks his computer and goes to his room. Not bothering to change clothes, since he’ll likely have to shower in the morning, Bokuto plops down on his bed and falls asleep within minutes.

Bokuto wakes up to loud successive knocks. In his sleep-addled state, Bokuto grunts and throws his pillow at the door. The consecutive knocks continue, each one louder than the last. Bokuto grumpily slides out of bed, barely noticing that he left his bedroom door open in his sleepy state earlier. He pads over to the front door and opens it, not even bothering to check through the peephole.

Some stranger stands on the open doorway, wearing nondescript clothing and a cap on their head. The bill of the cap is pulled low, preventing Bokuto from seeing the stranger’s face. After a few seconds of silence, Bokuto moves to close the door, thinking if it’s some sort of prank.

The stranger moves to stop the door from closing, one pale hand peeking from under the sleeve of what seemed to be an oversized coat. “You’re Bokuto Koutarou?” The stranger asks in a gravelly tone.

Bokuto yawns and scratches his head, “Y—Y—Yeah…” He blinks a couple of time to ease off the sleepiness from his eyes.

The figure pushes its way into Bokuto’s apartment. Bokuto catches a whiff of something citrusy mixed with something musky, and belatedly realizes that a stranger just walked inside his apartment. He closes the door and follows the stranger. “Oi! You can’t just come in here—” The words die down on his lips when the stranger takes off their cap.

Akaashi Keiji shakes his head slightly, ruffling the mass of black hair adorning his pretty head. At least that’s how Bokuto describes it in his head. Then Akaashi looks up at him, the wide soulful eyes Bokuto is so familiar with looking back at him earnestly. “I’m sorry for barging in. I had nowhere else to go.”

Bokuto makes a whimpering noise at the back of his throat. He blinks for a few seconds, trying to determine if everything is real and he’s not hallucinating.

Meanwhile, Akaashi interprets Bokuto’s silence as a refusal. He suddenly becomes self-conscious and fidgets in his oversized coat. “I—I understand if you want me to leave.” Akaashi tries to sound as pitiful as he could manage. Bokuto just kept looking at him, the expression on his face unchanging. Akaashi clears his throat. “Could—could I maybe stay the night, though. I—I promise to leave in the morning. I’m deeply sorry to be a bother…”

As if ice-cold water is poured down his back, Bokuto wakes up from his self-induced stupor. “DON’T LEAVE!” He says excitedly. Akaashi jumps at the sudden voice. Bokuto visibly deflates and clears his throat. “I mean, uh, you don’t have to leave. Tonight, or tomorrow. Ever. I mean, you can stay here. You can um, stay, for as long as you like. I mean until when you need to. When you’re not on the run anymore. Yeah.”

Akaashi giggles a little at Bokuto’s exuberance. He peels off the coat—it’s nearly freezing outside—but inside Bokuto’s apartment, it’s less cold, almost warm… cozy. Akaashi likes it. He looks around and sees what he surmises is the kitchen at the far end of the room. The counter is littered with mugs and bowls. His gaze moves to the small table on the side, where a pile of papers, a pair of drumsticks, and a plastic container sit. Clearly, the apartment is well-used. His eyes move to the door nearest the kitchen; Akaashi assumes it to be Bokuto’s. He turns his head to the other side of the room and sees another door, just beside the large entertainment set in the middle of the room. A few spaces to its right is another door, slightly narrower than the other; Akaashi assumes it must be the bathroom. _But what is the other door for? A roommate?_

Before Akaashi could ask, Bokuto suddenly moves around. He starts gathering pieces of strewn clothing, as well as various other knickknacks until his arms are full of an assortment of things. _Is that underwear?_ Akaashi thinks, slightly amused.

“Aaaahhh!!! It’s a mess in here. I hope you don’t mind so much!” Bokuto’s voice trails off as he moves into a room, the door nearest the set.

 _Ah, so that’s his room?_ Akaashi muses as he continues to observe as Bokuto flits around, gathering stuff. He finds the other man extremely interesting. “Bokuto-san, you don’t have to do that. I’m the one who’s intruding in your place.”

Bokuto stands still and looks at Akaashi. For a moment, Akaashi wonders if the other man will burst into tears. Then Bokuto’s expression changes into puzzlement. “Wait! How do you know my name?”

Akaashi is sure that he’s blushing. His cheeks feel so warm, and he itches to bring up his hands to cover his cheeks. “I have been following your vlog.”

The apartment becomes eerily silent after that admission. Then a crashing noise follows as Bokuto drops everything he’s holding in his arms. He steps close to Akaashi, forgetting his embarrassment, and takes Akaashi’s hands in his. “Akaaaassshiii!” Bokuto draws out the syllable of his name and Akaashi nearly swoons. _Get a hold of yourself, Keiji!_ “Do you really?”

Akaashi could only nod, afraid he’d squeak if he tries to speak. Bokuto continues to look at him, face full of wonder, his gray-golden eyes gleaming in the relative dark. Akaashi has never felt more enthralled in his life than at that moment.

Realizing what he has done, Bokuto yelps and steps back, dropping Akaashi’s hands as if scalded. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I was so surprised when you said you follow my vlog. I didn’t—I’m sorry! Oh God! Oh God!”

“Calm down, Bokuto-san!” Akaashi says, knowing the other man will not stop panicking. “It’s ok.”

Bokuto stops and looks at Akaashi, who blushes again at the intense scrutiny. Bokuto makes him feel so different. As if, he’s really looking at _him_. Akaashi shakes his head. _Silly, Keiji. Of course he isn’t!_

The silence is broken by the loud shrill of a pop song. Bokuto yelps in surprise before realizing it’s his own phone. He pats his pockets before fishing out the device. He looks at his screen, smiles brightly and then answers the call.

“Bro! Guess what? Guess what!!!”

Akaashi suddenly realizes what Bokuto is about to do. He steps forward and grabs the phone from Bokuto. He presses the end call and then tosses the device on the couch behind him. Arranging his features carefully, he looks up at Bokuto, who hasn’t moved since Akaashi grabbed the phone from him seconds ago. “Bokuto-san, I’m sorry, but you can’t tell anyone about me.”

Bokuto just continues to look at him. Akaashi sighs and realizes he may have to explain a bit more. He opens his mouth and then closes it again. What is he supposed to say? Deciding to go the most straightforward route, Akaashi takes a deep breath before saying, “I have run away. No one knows where I’ve gone. If you tell your friend about me being here, I’m pretty sure tomorrow, they’ll come for me.” When Bokuto remains standing and unmoving, Akaashi takes a step forward. He clutches at Bokuto’s shirt sleeve, his fingers lightly grazing Bokuto’s biceps.  “Please, Bokuto-san, no one can know about me being here.”

Not really understanding what’s happening but sensing Akaashi’s distress, Bokuto merely nods. Akaashi seems content with that response and releases the sleeve. He moves back towards the couch to retrieve Bokuto’s phone. Just in time, it starts to ring. Akaashi takes a quick look at the screen before handing it to Bokuto. He makes a mental note to find out who _‘Kuroo’_ is.

Bokuto glances at Akaashi before answering the call. “Bro! I’m sorry about earlier. The, uh, the—” Bokuto glances around the room as if searching for something. “—power went out.”

Akaashi nearly bursts out laughing at the excuse that Bokuto has given. He conceals it though, by keeping his mouth closed and folding his lips inward. He could only imagine what the person on the other end is saying.

“Yeah, that’s right. I meant the battery ran out and uh, it took a while to plug it in.”

Akaashi sits down, thinking the phone call might take longer. He makes a mental note that Bokuto speaks slower when he’s lying. _Maybe it’s because he has to think about what to say?_ Akaashi chuckles, finding the other man more and more amusing by the minute.

“Charge yes! That’s what I meant to say. It took a while to charge the phone!”

Bokuto starts to pace in front of him. Akaashi rests his head on one hand and watches the other man. He makes another mental note that Bokuto paces when agitated.

“Wait, why did you even call in the first place?”

Bokuto stops pacing and stands still as he listens to the yet-to-be-known speaker on the other end of the line. Akaashi watches him even as his eyes become heavy with sleep. He barely realizes he has no clothes nor personal effects. In his haste to leave and carry out his plan, he only remembers to grab his wallet and phone. _Oh, I need to borrow Bokuto-san’s charger because—_

After a few minutes of explanation, Bokuto finally hangs up the phone and expels a heavy sigh. He hates lying, especially to his best friend. He has never felt comfortable with it. He’s sure Kuroo can tell, but Bokuto doesn’t have a choice: he can’t tell him the truth. Akaashi made him promise. Remembering his guest, he turns and goes still.

Akaashi has fallen asleep on his couch; his legs dangling over the edge, one arm beneath his head, the other in an awkward bent position. Bokuto feels torn whether to fix Akaashi’s position; he’s pretty sure the latter will have a crick in his neck in the morning if he stays that way. He dawdles for a second before deciding that he’s going to fix Akaashi’s posture in the gentlest possible way.

He places one hand on Akaashi’s arm—the one underneath his head—to steady him, then Bokuto scoops Akaashi’s legs and lays it down on the couch. Akaashi stirs slightly, stretching his legs and moving into a more comfortable position. Bokuto steps back gently and surveys Akaashi, watching over him and making sure the other man doesn’t fall off the couch in the process of making himself more comfortable on the cushions. When Akaashi stops squirming, Bokuto quickly crosses to his room and grabs a clean blanket from his cabinet. He drapes it over Akaashi, who quickly snuggles into it, making cute little sleep noises.

Bokuto blushes, realizing how intimate this scene is. He suddenly feels embarrassed as if he’s intruding in on Akaashi’s private moment. Except he can’t help but continue to watch the other man. Wisps of hair fall against Akaashi’s forehead; Bokuto stills his hand from brushing them away so he could see more of the other man’s face. Thick black lashes fan out against pale skin that looks so soft to touch. Bokuto’s gaze continues lower, and his breath hitches as he looks at Akaashi’s lips, which are slightly parted. For a second, Bokuto imagines how it would feel to take those lips in his and whether Akaashi would moan if he were to take one lip and nibble on it.

As lust stirs inside him, Bokuto immediately gets up and looks away. He berates himself for thinking such thoughts about his guest—about Akaashi Keiji, his idol! He quickly crosses over to the bath and splashes cold water on his face. He looks up and stares at his reflection on the mirror, noting the enlarged pupils and the flushed cheeks. _Get ahold of yourself! Akaashi is a guest!_

He exits the bathroom minutes later, and with one last lingering look at his guest, he quickly makes his way to his room, locking the door behind him. He plops facedown and releases a frustrated groan, the sound muffled by the pillow. Later he realizes that the locked is more to keep himself in, rather than to keep others out.

 

 


	2. Never be your knight in shining armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look... Miyuki and Kuroo make their appearances... Lol.

_“Ok ‘fess up. What really happened last night?”_

Bokuto squirms, careful not to drop the phone currently sandwiched between his face and left shoulder. “Uh, last night?”

The voice on the other end of the line laughs. _“Bo, even if you don’t tell me, I’m coming home this afternoon. I will find out.”_

Bokuto stands abruptly, dropping the papers on his lap onto the floor where they lay scattered.  _CRAP! I forgot Kuroo’s coming home today!_ He panics, thinking of Akaashi who’s probably still sleeping back at his apartment.

_“BO! HEY BO! OI!”_

Kuroo’s voice crackles over the phone, which lay on the table after he stood up earlier. Bokuto sweats for a moment, wondering what to do. One the one hand, he can’t avoid telling Kuroo about Akaashi; after all, he and Kuroo share an apartment together. However, he remembers the seriousness in Akaashi’s face last night when he asked Bokuto to keep his whereabouts a secret. _CRAP! What do I do? What do I do?_

He decides to tell Kuroo—after all, there is no avoiding that situation—but he also needs to talk to Akaashi first. First, though, he needs to placate Kuroo. He picks up his phone, but the screen has turned black. Confused for a moment, he presses the home key and realizes Kuroo most likely ended the call a while back.

Suddenly exhausted from panicking over the situation, Bokuto takes a seat back down and cradles his head in his hands, lamenting the mess he’s suddenly in. I should call Akaashi now and tell him. Heaving a sigh, Bokuto reaches for his phone again and then realizes he doesn’t have Akaashi’s number.

“God, I’m stupid!”

“Well, that’s a record. You made it through half the day before realizing that!” A slightly nasal voice suddenly pipes up behind Bokuto, and he turns around to look at Miyuki.

“Miyuki! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Surprised by Bokuto not responding to his barb, Miyuki looks skeptically at the other.

“I have an interview this afternoon with a reporter, can you stand in for me instead? I have to go back home to, uh, do something else.”

Miyuki looks at Bokuto and senses the other's distress. _What's at home that he'll give up an interview over?_ Miyuki knows how passionate Bokuto is about his music and his chosen instrument, the drums; any chance he can promote it, he does. Giving up an interview means something important is happening.

“Uh, no,” Miyuki says, just to see how far Bokuto will plea to get out of it. “You giving up an interview is suspicious. I don't want to inherit whatever it is.”

Bokuto runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, mussing it in the process. Now that Miyuki could see better, he realizes how unkempt Bokuto looks today. Again, another suspicious activity since Bokuto takes so much care in his appearance. “Miyuki, please. This is really very important for me.”

Miyuki crosses his arms. “What do I get out of it?”

Bokuto pales, knowing Miyuki could be an exacting person when he wants to be. “Uh… I don't know what I have that you'd want though…”

“How about you tell me what's going on then?”

Bokuto's shoulders slump, the one thing he can't do. “I can't actually do that…”

“No deal then,” Miyuki says and starts to walk away. Just then Bokuto's phone rings. Miyuki turns around and watches the color drain from Bokuto’s face.

“I'll be over soon. Kuroo, please, don't… don't do anything.”

Miyuki arches an eyebrow. _So Kuroo is involved._

After ending the call, Bokuto turns to him. “Miyuki, I’m sorry I have to go. Don't forget the interview! Thanks, man, I owe you.” And with that, Bokuto scuttles away leaving a shell-shocked Miyuki gaping at him and wondering what just happened.

 

xxx

 

“So… essentially you let a stranger into our apartment?”

“He's not technically a stranger…”

Kuroo Tetsuroo, Bokuto's roommate for the last two years and best friend since college, looks at him with hooded eyes. Bokuto scratches his head, knowing his best friend can't really be mad at him. A soft cough causes both of them to turn their heads. They see Akaashi looking at them with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Kuroo-san, I'm very sorry for Imposing. If my presence is unwelcome, I don't mind leaving.”

“You're not imposing—”

“Look, can you stay out of this for a while?”

Bokuto and Kuroo say at the same time. They look at each other, Kuroo with an arched eyebrow, and Bokuto with a surprised look on his face.

“Kuroo! Apologize to Akaashi right now.”

Kuroo continues to arch his eyebrow. Then he looks at their pale-faced guest. “Akaashi-san, will you please excuse Bo and me for a while?”

For a moment, Akaashi looks as if he doesn't want to leave, but he relents and steps out the apartment, closing the door on his way out.

As soon as the door shuts close, Kuroo expels a sigh. “Bo, look man, I know you like him. But you can't just let anyone in like that! What if it had been a serial killer?”

Bokuto stares at Kuroo with a confused look on his face. “But Akaashi isn't anyone.”

Kuroo looks torn for a moment, wanting to elaborate on the argument but knowing that he's not gonna get anywhere with the conversation. He sighs and shakes his head. “How long do you plan on letting him stay here?”

When his question is met with silence, Kuroo looks up and sees an impish grin on Bokuto's face. As realization dawns on him, Kuroo cuts off Bokuto before the latter could speak. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Hey! You don't even know what I was going to say!” Bokuto rebuts.

“I know enough from the expression on your face!” Kuroo says, running a hand haphazardly through his already mussed hair. “Look, Bo—”

Kuroo’s statement was cut off when they hear the door open, and a cacophony of voices stream inside the otherwise silent room. They both turn towards the door and watch as Akaashi ducks in and then slams the door behind him.

“They found me,” Akaashi says, a little breathless probably from having to dodge some of the paparazzi.

_Great!_ Kuroo thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking upwards—a habit he has since adopted before he could remember.

“Don’t worry, they only saw me from the balcony. I don’t think they saw which apartment I went into.” Akaashi hurriedly says, seeing the look of panic on Bokuto’s face and the pinched look on Kuroo’s. “I—I can leave if you want me to.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for—”

“No no, you don’t have to, Akaashi!”

Kuroo and Bokuto look at each other, and after a few minutes of staring at each other, Akaashi clears his throat.

“It’s ok Bokuto-san, I don’t want to inconvenience you any further.” Without waiting for a response, Akaashi pushes off the door and goes to gather his things. Bokuto watches him, mouth slightly open as if he wants to say something. Kuroo arches an eyebrow at the reticent attitude from Akaashi but does not say anything.

After gathering his things, Akaashi turns to Bokuto and says, “Thank you for letting me stay the night Bokuto-san.” Then Akaashi turns to Kuroo and gives a curt nod, which Kuroo returns with a somber nod of his own.

The two of them watch as the door closes behind Akaashi. Silence reigns for a few seconds; after a while, the din from outside fades.

“How did Akaashi Keiji ended up here anyway?” Kuroo asks over his shoulder as he walks over to his room. He leaves the door open—his way of telling Bokuto that he’s waiting for a response. Kuroo opens a cabinet and rummages through. When he finds what he’s looking for—a plain black tee that has faded from frequent washing—he shrugs off the shirt he’s wearing and eases himself into the new one. He walks out of the room and finds Bokuto sitting down on the sofa, hands folded on his lap.

Kuroo sighs. His best friend has been nursing a crush on Akaashi since the classical pianist’s debut a few years back. Since then, Bokuto follows Akaashi’s album releases and theatre performances. He even devotes a special section in his vlog for doing covers of Akaashi’s songs; and despite those videos not getting a lot of feedback, Bokuto keeps doing them as a tribute to his idol.

He muses that meeting Akaashi last night was probably a shock to Bokuto. However, Kuroo couldn’t shake off the feeling that there’s something fishy about how Akaashi easily found Bokuto. His friends often joke that his behavior often resembles that of a cat—Kuroo just couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that further encounter with Akaashi would only lead to pain for Bokuto.

“Kuroo,” Bokuto’s voice jolts Kuroo from his musings. “I didn’t hallucinate the entire thing, right? Akaashi was really here?” Bokuto turns towards Kuroo, his gray-golden eyes filled with such sadness that despite Kuroo’s misgivings about Akaashi, he doesn’t have the heart to deny his best friend.

“Yes, Bo, he was really here.”

“Oh.” Bokuto replies and then turns back and settles down on the couch once more.

Kuroo sighs and puts the mystery that is Akaashi Keiji aside; his best friend needs cheering up. “Hey, Bo, I’m free for the next few days. How about some karaoke?”

For a moment, Kuroo thought Bokuto would continue to sulk in silence. He nearly repeats his offer when Bokuto turns to him with a wide smile on his face. “You’re on!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up will be some misawa and some daisuga. Kudos and comments always appreciated!


	3. Never be the hands you put your heart in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some encounters are just too special to forget. In the case of Miyuki and Sawamura, each time they have an encounter, it leaves a lasting impression for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the first chapter ... but after much plotting, it ended up being the third. I had so much fun writing this and I hope you all like it <3 I have missed writing Misawa dearly. TT_TT Regardless what I end up pursuing in the future, I think I'll always, *always*, come back to Misawa <3

 

Feeling disgruntled over Bokuto’s hasty disappearance, Miyuki leaves the rehearsal room in search of their other band member. He goes over the possible reasons Bokuto left in a hurry—a hidden love affair? Miyuki shakes his head, _Bokuto isn’t the type to hide something, besides Kuroo is somehow involved._

He knows Kuroo is Bokuto’s housemate and best friend since college. They’ve only met a couple of times—Kuroo’s job often makes him unavailable—but he left a lasting impression on Miyuki. Suffice to say, he and Kuroo have a mutual dislike for each other. Bokuto often laughs when Miyuki tells him this, claiming that the two are so alike, it’s amusing that they dislike each other. Miyuki feels offended every time Bokuto insists on his and Kuroo’s likeliness.

Without realizing it, Miyuki ends up in the studio lobby where he sees a man enter and walk up to the receptionist. The visitor seems to be about his age, with brown hair and slightly bronzed skin. Miyuki has been in the entertainment industry long enough and has seen his fair share of beautiful people; this stranger is, to be perfectly blunt, quite ordinary. Yet there’s something about him that enthralls Miyuki, and he stares, utterly captivated, as the man’s face lights up as he starts talking to the receptionist.

Curious about the conversation, Miyuki walks a little closer and catches the tail-end of the man’s inquiry.

“—looking for Bokuto Koutaro?”

The receptionist responds instantaneously, “Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh, okay, let me just check our system.”

“Sure, thanks!”

Miyuki decides to cut in. He taps the table to get the attention of the receptionist. He gives a cursory glance at her nametag. “I’ll take it from here, Tomoyo-chan.” He winks and flashes his best smile for good measure.

Tomoyo blushes and opens her mouth to say something when her phone rings. With one last look at Miyuki’s grinning face, she nods and then accepts the incoming call.

Miyuki turns to the visitor and inhales sharply. Gleaming golden-irises greet him, and Miyuki forgets to breathe for a second. He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring until he sees a hand waving in front of his face.

“Hello? Are you there?”

Fighting the urge to blush, Miyuki covers up his embarrassment with a grin. “Yea, sorry about that. I was taken aback by how mesmerizing your eyes are.”

The man frowns, his brows furrowing with confusion at Miyuki’s words. Realizing how unbelievably forthcoming he had been, Miyuki clears his throat and pastes a huge smile on his face. “So, you’re looking for Bokuto?”

“Yes!” There is no mistaking the relief on the man’s face; an eager smile smoothing over the frown on his face. “My name is Sawamura Eijun. I’m a journalist from N TV.”

Miyuki notes the immediate shift in the other person’s countenance; where he previously seemed confused, now he looks slightly hopeful. Nothing in the other man’s behavior indicates anything suspicious, and Miyuki would later wonder what made him decide to play a prank on the unsuspecting visitor.

“Oh, I know Bokuto-san!” Miyuki inclines his head towards the hallway behind him. “Why don’t you follow me?” Then he moves away from the receptionists’ desk, prompting the other man to follow him.

Eijun easily falls in step with him. “How do you know Bokuto? Do you work together?”

“Yes, we work together.” Realizing that his cover would be easily blown if they continue down this path of questions, Miyuki decides to steer the conversation into another direction. “We’re headed this way.” He points down the hallway and then casually asks, “Why are you looking for Bokuto by the way?”

Miyuki notices how Eijun tenses up all of a sudden; he thinks for a moment that his decision to play a prank may have a useful purpose after all.

“I scheduled an appointment because I’ve been tasked to write an article for the band.”

The explanation itself seems pretty straightforward, yet to Miyuki’s ears, Eijun appears to be hiding something. He flags an incoming stagehand—a woman with long, red hair and wearing the standard black tee required for all the crew. “Oi, have you seen Bokuto?”

They all pause; the stagehand looks up at Miyuki with a surprised look on her face. “Bokuto? Didn’t he just leave a few minutes ago?”

Miyuki nods, signaling the end of the conversation. The stagehand looks at him—face a mixture of exasperation and mild suspicion—then she shrugs and goes on her way. Miyuki breathes a sigh of relief and then turns to Eijun, “Sadly, Bokuto is nowhere today. Maybe you can come back tomorrow for the interview?”

Eijun opens his mouth to reply when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He takes it out and then gives Miyuki an apologetic look, “Sorry I have to take this quickly.” Without waiting for Miyuki’s response, Sawamura accepts the call and presses the phone to his ear. “Wakana! Perfect timing—yeah, I know, I know. Hey, listen for a minute. Bokuto’s not here, I thought you said he agreed to the interview?”

As the conversation continues, Miyuki watches the play of emotions on Eijun’s face with fascination. The man is such an open book—his brows furrow when he’s confused about something, his face lights up when he’s happy, and his whole body tenses up when he’s hiding something. One needn't be particularly skilled at reading people to be able to tell Eijun's emotions. Miyuki starts feeling guilty for playing a prank, but he also knows Eijun is hiding something and he’s keen to find out what.

“—yeah, hold on a sec,” Eijun brings the phone down from his ear and turns to Miyuki. “Uh, is ‘Miyuki’ around?” There was a slight crackle as the person on the other end of the line says something, causing Eijun to press the phone into his ear once more. “Hang on a sec, I’m trying to find out if he’s here.”

Miyuki nearly laughs out loud, and he’s grateful that the caller is distracting Eijun. He looks away for a second to control his features. When he turns back, Eijun is looking expectantly at him. Miyuki clears his throat, “Um, yeah, I think he should be around.”

This response seems to please Eijun—his face visibly lights up, and his golden irises gleam momentarily—and he speaks to the phone once more. “Yeah, it seems he’s here… Yeah, yeah, I looked at the pictures you showed me, I know what he looks like… I’ll talk to you later.”

Eijun turns to him, and Miyuki fights hard not to break out into a grin. Most people do not recognize him in his usual appearance—mainly consisting of a cap worn sideways and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. His on-stage persona is much more refined: his hair is typically styled and brushed away from his face, and instead of glasses, he wears contacts. It’s no surprise Eijun doesn’t recognize him; in fact, Miyuki is banking on not being recognized for his prank to succeed.

“Can we go see Miyuki now?”

Miyuki crosses his arms and adopts a curious look. “What’s the rush? Are you here to dig some dirt on him?”

Eijun’s brows furrow instantly—Miyuki's statement seems to have upset him. “No, I’m not here to dig dirt on Miyuki,” Then in a quieter voice, Eijun adds, “He does that well enough on his own.”

The effrontery surprises Miyuki, and he chuckles. “Yeah, that _Miyuki_ is certainly a character. All those bad publicity—one would think he’d be willing to sleep with just about anyone.”

Expecting Eijun to take the bait, Miyuki is taken aback by the flash of anger that crosses the other man’s face. Despite the red flush slowly creeping up his face, Eijun's voice remains calm. “I don’t think you should be speaking like that about the people you work for.”

Miyuki couldn’t help the laugh that bursts out from him. “My, aren’t you such a straight-laced person?” He looks at Eijun, who is rapidly becoming more and more interesting by the minute.

“Does the word loyalty mean nothing to you?” Eijun retorts hotly, face completely flushed all the way down to his neck. Then he catches himself and visibly tries to calm down. “I guess that's not a hot commodity in this industry, huh?”

Knowing he hit a nerve, Miyuki intentionally lays down the sarcasm thick. “What would you know about loyalty, _Reporter-kun_? Isn’t that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?” He doesn't even hide the smile that breaks out of his face at the myriad expressions that flash across Eijun’s face.

Eijun opens his mouth to retort when a voice rings out from the other end of the hallway.

“OI, MIYUKI!” Both Miyuki and Eijun turn to see a furious-looking man with dark-green spiky hair. “What the hell, man? I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour!”

Miyuki groans, remembering the promise he made the previous day. “Mochi, I forgot. My bad, sorry! Look, how about we catch up this afternoon, yeah?”

Before Kuramochi could reply, Eijun interjects with a finger pointed at Miyuki’s face. “Ahhh!!! You’re Miyuki! Why did you lie to me?”

The newcomer, Kuramochi Youichi, grins as he watches the spectacle. He's not even surprised at the accusation. He gives Miyuki a knowing look and shakes his head.

Miyuki rolls his eyes at Kuramochi before responding, “Technically, I never said I _wasn’t_ Miyuki.”

Eijun’s face turns an unusual shade of red. He splutters as he continues his tirade. “You’re such a liar! You totally wanted to make a fool out of me!”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Miyuki shrugs and looks bored. Beside him, Kuramochi stifles a laugh.

Aghast at how utterly despicable Miyuki is, Eijun opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the right words to throw at Miyuki. Frustrated that he couldn't think of anything particularly scathing, Eijun stomps his foot and yells, “God, you really are an asshole!” as he turns and walks away.

The sound of Miyuki’s mocking laughter echoes loudly throughout the hallway.

 

 

Still fuming about his encounter with Miyuki, Eijun stomps through the hallway reciting insults in his head. _Stupid four-eyed asshole!_ He groans and shakes his head at how lame his insults are.

As he tries to calm down, Eijun suddenly remembers the other reason for his visit to the studio. He stops walking, takes a calming breath, and decides to go back to the receptionist to ask for information.

He recalls the notes Wakana gave him about the band members. In his line of work, information is power. He takes his job very seriously and makes a point to always judge situations for himself, and not just what he reads on the papers, or sees through the lenses of media. The clippings Wakana put together painted opposing pictures of Miyuki—on one side, his talent is being lauded by the industry experts, yet on the other end, his off-stage reputation leaves much to be desired.

At first, Eijun thinks Miyuki may be a victim of unjust criticism, as what usually befalls those whose lives suddenly become public domain, where every detail of one's life becomes subject to public scrutiny and speculation. Very few people emerge unscathed under such microscopic judgment, and even the most level-headed persons eventually end up giving up their careers for a chance at recovering what's left of their private lives.

Before visiting the studio, Eijun told himself to keep an open mind. He would meet the band members and adjudge for himself whether what the media says about them is true. Now, after his encounter with Miyuki, Eijun can't help but believe everything the media has portrayed concerning his persona off the stage. _Bleh! He was even flirting with the receptionist earlier!_

Fully absorbed in his musings, Eijun doesn't see the incoming person until he bumps hard. “Ufff! Sorry, I wasn’t looking—Daichi?”

Sawamura Daichi, Eijun's cousin, smiles good-naturedly. “Eijun! I was just looking for you!”

They exchange pleasantries, and Eijun’s bad mood disappears. “It's good to see you! How have you been?”

“Good, good!” Daichi responds, “Come on, walk with me. Let me give you a tour of the place.”

The other reason for Eijun's visit is to see Daichi—which is why, despite wanting to leave, Eijun decides to humor his cousin. They fall into an easy conversation—the family back in Miyagi, Eijun’s decision to study abroad, Daichi’s venture into the recording business—that Eijun doesn't realize where they're going until they come across two familiar figures.

“Oh, let me introduce you to the band!” Daichi quickly flags the two figures in the distance. “Oi, Miyuki, Kuramochi, come here for a second! There’s someone I want you to meet.” As the two figures come closer, Eijun’s mood sours again. “This is Sawamura Eijun, my cousin.”

“Another Sawamura?” Miyuki asks looking between Eijun and Daichi. Then he smirks and looks Eijun in the eye. “OK, I’mma start calling you Eijun from now on.”

Eijun immediately reacts, “Hey! We're not that familiar with each other for you to start calling me by my first name, asshole.”

“Ehhh? You already have an endearment for me, I figured I should have one for you.” Miyuki said, a shit-eating grin in his face.

Eijun turns red. Beside him, Daichi turns his head away to hide the wayward smile on his face. Daichi clears his throat. “Miyuki, that's enough. Don't you have practice or something…?”

Miyuki rolls his eyes. “Right, let's go Mochi.” Turning to Eijun, Miyuki winks and says, “I'll see you soon Ei~chan!” Then he moves away, closely followed by a softly snickering Kuramochi.

Once the two are out of sight, Eijun huffs. “I hate that guy!” He barely stops himself from stomping his foot. He settles instead with clenching his hands in a tight fist. “Ugh! I wish I'd never have to see his smug face again!”

Daichi laughs softly beside him. “That might be unlikely. His band's one of the hottest act right now. You'll likely see more of him, to be honest.”

Eijun groans loudly at that, and Daichi laughs at his cousin's apparent dislike for the snarky musician. “He's very talented, Ei, and to be honest, it'd be good for me—for the business—if he gets more exposure.”

Eijun deflates slightly at Daichi's wistful tone. “I know, and I said I'd help you, didn't I?”

“I'm truly grateful.” Daichi turns serious. “Ei… Are you sure about this… I know it hasn't been long since—”

“It's ok, Daichi, I'm a man of my words. I said I'd do it, so I will.” Seeing the disbelieving look in his cousin's face, Eijun attempts a smile. “Hey, it's gonna be ok, I promise.”

Daichi looks at him for a few more minutes before he exhales. “Well, I really do need your help. Thank you, Eijun!”

“A~ra! Eijun, is that you?” A light-haired man comes bounding towards them, and Eijun notices the subtle shift in Daichi's demeanor. _Huh, interesting_. The stranger continues to ask, “It's been a while! Do you still remember me?”

Eijun racks his brain for a name. The light-haired man smiles, and Eijun blushes as he tries not to stare at the beauty mark under the stranger's left eye. “Uh…”

“Suga, stop teasing my cousin like that.”

“But I wasn't teasing!” The other man said with a playful smile on his face.

 _Suga?_ It's as if a lightbulb goes off in Eijun’s head. “Ahh!!! Sugawara-san, is it really you?”

Sugawara Koushi smiles, his hazel-brown eyes crinkling with mirth. “Bin~go! So mean, Eijun-kun, forgetting me like that.”

A cough disrupts what would have been Eijun’s reply. Both Eijun and Sugawara turn towards Daichi. “Did you need something, Suga?”

Daichi looks slightly annoyed, and Eijun’s lips curl upwards in a small smile. He thinks there just might be something going on between his cousin and Sugawara.

“Hmm?” Sugawara turns to Daichi and tilts his head on one side, as if in question. “Do I need to have a reason to come over and say hi to your family, Daichi?”

Eijun stifles a smile as Daichi turns beet-red and splutters, “O—of course not. That’s not—”

Soft laughter stops his flow of words. “Daichi, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

 _Oh, this is interesting!_ Eijun continues to observe the interaction. From the little interaction he has witnessed so far, he could tell that his cousin has a crush on Sugawara. It would seem Sugawara is playing along with his teasing, but Eijun could tell by the slight blush on Sugawara’s face, that the latter is just as enamored.

He decides to give the two some space. “Daichi, I need to leave soon. I have to pick up a couple of documents as well on the way back to the office.”

Daichi turns to him, faintly surprised to still see him there.

Eijun chuckles to himself. _He completely forgot I wa_ _s here._ “Sugawara-kun, it’s nice to see you again. Please take care of my cousin.” Eijun says and gives Sugawara a conspiratorial wink.

Sugawara’s lips part slightly in surprise. He quickly recovers and says, “It’s great to see you again, Eijun! Please call me Suga, everyone does!”

Eijun nods and then heads for the exit. On his way out, he passes by an open doorway where he could hear faint strums of music. Curious, he peeks in and sees Miyuki on one corner of the room, bent over a guitar. Eijun's earlier irritation returns full force, and he starts to back away, completely losing interest and ignoring his journalistic instinct to investigate further.

The strums of soft guitar flow through the air, each pluck of the string embellished by the room’s acoustics. Eijun could feel goosebumps crawling up his skin. As the music continues, Eijun could feel himself melting at the soulful rendition—it’s as if he could hear Miyuki’s sadness in the way his fingers glide through the instrument.

 _This is absurd!_ Eijun tries to shake himself off the stupor, but he remains frozen in his spot by the doorway, as the melody wreaks havoc in his heart. He feels immense sadness for some reason; as the tune continues to play, Eijun could feel his heart stirring with different emotions—hurt, loneliness, maybe even pain?

The music suddenly stops. Eijun looks up and sees Miyuki staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Eijun ducks away immediately—embarrassed to be caught staring—and moves away. He hurries towards the exit when he hears footsteps behind him. Suddenly, a hand grabs his wrist, forcing him to stop.

“What were you doing in there?”

For a second, Eijun feels scared at the cold fury he could sense coming from Miyuki. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out, his brain deciding to shut down at that very same moment.

Moments pass between them—Miyuki hovers over him, quietly seething, while Eijun looks up at him, wondering why Miyuki seems so angry. Then as if Eijun imagined the entire thing, Miyuki’s features relax and the familiar smirk appears on his face.

“I knew you’d come around sooner or later.”

Despite knowing that Miyuki is just baiting him, Eijun couldn’t deny the sheer annoyance that bubbles up inside him. “Asshole, it’ll be a million years before I _come_ around. If at all!”

Miyuki steps closer and Eijun backs away until he hits a wall. The smirk on Miyuki’s face grows bigger, and he leans forward until the tips of their noses nearly touch. Miyuki stares at him, eyes glowing like wildfire and Eijun feels himself burning under the intensity. He refuses to look away, refuses to budge, even if the heat spreads throughout him and he aches to put his hand up and push Miyuki away. _Bastard will NOT get the satisfaction!_

Eijun’s eyes widen when Miyuki’s face comes nearer. For a moment, he thinks Miyuki is about to kiss him. The gleam in Miyuki’s eyes intensifies, and unknowingly, Eijun bites his lip. His eyes flutter closed… and then he hears a voice in his ear. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can make you _come_ much sooner than that.”

A sharp pain to his forehead causes Eijun to open his eyes. Miyuki has moved back and is smirking at him. Heat crawls up Eijun’s face. “ASSHOLE!” He yells before pushing off the wall and stomping away, leaving a laughing Miyuki behind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated <3 =)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


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